The Reaper Ripple Effect
by 10th Muse
Summary: This takes place after Season 5, episode 100. Hotch has never officially or medically been cleared to return to work. Psychologically, he had never recovered from the attacks from George Foyet. Consequently, he began to suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) of the worst kind. Or was it? This is only a one-shot Story.


This takes place around Season 5, after episode 100.

I do not own any characters from the TV series Criminal Minds.

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 **Criminal Minds**

 **The Reaper Ripple Effect**

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He remembered his deranged smile as he continually pummeled him with his bare fists.

He knew he had to do it; Foyet had to die.

There was no question about that; he couldn't live, not even in a penal farm. Not as long as he and his son lived.

Hotch would never be able rest knowing that bastard was still alive.

He had to die.

And he did by his hands, his bare hands.

Even though he had taken the life of his ex-wife, at least his son was spared.

He had Jack.

Section Chief Erin Strauss had offered him an opportunity of early retirement but instead, he returned to duty.

He assured his team he was fine...

But he was never officially and medically cleared to return to work.

Nor was he psychologically cleared.

No one realized he was completely healed; he never did, and he never will be.

Even though Foyet was physically dead. In Hotch's mind, he was never gone.

His taunting face was there; his voice a constant reminder and whenever he closed his eyes, Hotch could see Foyet.

 _Hello Aaron buddy, how are you? How's work today?_

Hotch ignored his taunting features.

Looking hurt, Foyet shook his head, _Won't you even acknowle_ _dge_ _my existence? I mean after all, I'm permanently in your head._

Hotch frowned.

Foyet nodded, _Oh yeah, didn't I tell you that one little tidbit? No?_

Looking contrite, _It's part of my 'made a deal with the big guy'_ he used the air quotes and laughed as he continued, _Yea, it's a hard bargain and blah, blah, blah, I'll spare you the long ass contract deal with the devil._

Hotch shook his head, "I don't believe you, Foyet. I don't believe you. You're dead."

But George laughed, _Oh no,_ he shook his head. _I may be dead in the physical world; you know, the earth and all those material things and all. But I'm very much alive in your head._

"No, you're not." Hotch said vehemently. "I killed you. I killed you."

 _Did you? Did you really kill me? Did you really see my dead body, Aaron?_ Foyet's face leaned in.

Hotch couldn't help but reared back from his repulsiveness. "Get away from me! You're not real!"

 _Oh but I am, Aaron. And you still haven't answered my question._

Hotch was silent; he tried to think back that day...when he had killed him.

George in his head was nodding, _I remembered that day too. It was brutal, Aaron. I felt your fist on my face._ He smiled sadly. _I really deserved every punch you inflicted on me, I guess._

"Yes, you did. What you did to my family. And to the others, and to Agent Kessmeyer."

Foyet looked from the memory of Hotch's mind of the body of Kessmeyer and nodded, _Yeah, it was pretty mess up of me to do that to him, but I needed the information. He was pretty resilient, I'll give you that._

Hotch became angry, "You're a cruel ass."

He turned to watch him and smiled, _There you go, that's the Aaron I'm missing. I love it when you're angry. I tell you, you can be so dull._

Hotch turned away from him.

But Foyet ran and faced him again, _Hey, hey...! Don't walk away...I really enjoy our talks. I miss talking to you...to anyone._

Hotch ignored him as he remained silent.

 _Aw, come on, Aaron. Seriously? I'm giving you a compliment._ He spread both arms out. _You know I love you like a brother._

Hotch shook his head.

 _No? Then think of me as your...what do these young people call it...BFF?_

Hotch looked at him in surprise and disgust at the same time.

 _No?_ He laughed. _I guess not, not after all I had put you through._ He sighed as he sat down on a couch and leaned back.

Hotch had not noticed the couch he was sitting down; it was the very couch to his...wait a minute...he realized he was back in his old house, the one he and Haley had lived before she was killed by him. It was a painful reminder.

"Get out." He said plainly.

Foyet looked up at him. _What?_

"Get out of here." Hotch repeated.

George shook his head, _I can't._

"Yes, this is my house. Get out of here."

Foyet shook his head as he stood up, _You don't understand, Aaron. I can't get out of here._

"Why not? This is my house."

 _House? I don't see any house._ He looked about him. _All I see is four_ _dark_ _walls and this chair._ He indicated the furniture he was sitting on earlier.

Hotch's brows furrowed, "You're sitting on my couch just now, Foyet."

 _Aaron, don't you see,_ Foyet paused and shook his head. _Let me rephrase, you see me in your head and that I'm in your house, right?_

He nodded.

 _I'm not. I'm not in existence. I'm in your mind. Get it?_

Hotch thought for a moment before he nodded, "If you're in my mind, why can't I get rid of you?"

He shrugged, _Because we're in this together,_ _buddy_ _._

"We?" Hotch stared at him. "What do you mean we?"

Foyet smiled, _I think you're beginning to figure it out. You're becoming me._

Hotch shook his head. "No. It's impossible, I cannot be you, I can not turn into you."

 _Oh yes. When you kill me, you become me. Don't you realized that? Why did you think_ _our old buddy Shaunessy, god rest his poor soul,_ he shook his head, _had not hunted me down all those years ago? He had the chance and deep down he knew who I was, Aaron._

"You're a monster, Foyet." Hotch muttered.

Foyet shrugged and laughed, _it is what I am, I'm sorry, Aaron. And face it, you're becoming me._

Shaking his head, "No, I'm not you, and I'll never become you." He said firmly.

 _Believe what you what, Aaron. Watch the news, it has begun._

With that Foyet reached out and removed something from his face.

It was the signature mask worn by the notorious Reaper.

Horrified, Hotch shook his head, "No, no, no! I'm not you! I'm not the Reaper!"

Foyet watched him and began to laugh, _Oh yeah, Aaron buddy. You are me, you're the new Reaper! Although we have to change the name; it's no longer the Boston Reaper but the Vicksburg Reaper._ He frowned momentarily, _It doesn't have a good ring like the Boston Reaper. But hey, can't be picky where you live, can't it, Aaron? Now, ready to make some major headlines?_ He laughed again, Vicksburg _Reaper, I love the sound of it!_ _Oh, by the way...in a few months, your target will be your own flesh and blood._

Foyet began to laugh!

Hotch began to cry!

He couldn't help it as he placed the mask back on his face _._

 _That's a good pal. You're looking that part. I like that._

Hotch did not utter another word as he slipped the hoodie over his head and walked from him.

….

"Hotch," JJ rapped the door to his office and poked her head in, her face was pale, "We have a serious situation."

Hotch opened his eyes and turned to her, he had not realized he had fallen asleep, an unusual thing for him but lately he had some pretty vivid dreams which when he woke up he felt frantic and those dreams were quickly forgotten!

"What is it, JJ?" He resisted the urge to rub his eyes, had he even slept? It felt as though he had pulled an all-nighter.

She hesitated for a moment before she nodded, "We have a copy-cat serial killer."

He frowned, "Copy cat? Who?" Before she uttered, he knew who she was going to say as she approached the desk and showed him her tablet; it was a picture of the mask.

He turned pale; The Boston Reaper iconic mask.

"Where...?" He couldn't go on.

"A bus full of passengers were shot dead in Vicksburg late last night." She said.

"And? Did he leave anything?"

She flipped her pad and showed him a picture, "A watch. Just like what Foyet did. And a couple was found shot dead with multiple stab wounds. His watch was missing. And UnSub left both crime scenes with this." She showed him the drawing of the Eye of Providence.

He sighed, "Let's get every one in the briefing room."

She nodded. "On it."

Twenty minutes later, at the conference room, the BAU team were briefing.

Rossi shook his head, "Not to sound crass and unfeeling for the dead, why can't these copy-cats be original?"

Reid tried to look for something to say about copy-cats but for once he couldn't and remained mum, the gory pictures of the dead had been too much even for him.

"Who would have such intimate details of Foyet...besides us?" Prentiss looked up from her folder. "I mean, how did this copy-cat knew about Foyet's penchant for taking something from a previous victim and planting onto the next one?" She looked around at her colleagues.

"Prentiss has a point," Hotch nodded. "That particular information was never released to the media or to anyone for the matter."

"What about the writer, Roy Coulson?" Rossi questioned. "Didn't he write another book about it?"

"He did but at my request, he never released that particular information."

The team nodded, "Then who would know about it?"

"Looks like we'd have to go through the entire case files." Morgan looked morosely. "Piece by piece. Somewhere, somehow, it's leaked out to someone." He leaned back with a defeated look.

Hotch nodded, "Reid, will you get with Garcia and look through all the evidences from the beginning of this case, going back to the Tom Shaunessy case. Leave no stone unturned."

Reid nodded, "Got it." He stood up, gathered his things and left the room.

"Let's get to Vicksburg and examined the crime scene." Hotch nodded to the rest of his team. We'll meet up in thirty."

They nodded as they stood as well.

As Hotch returned to his office, he sat before his desk and contemplated on the case; it couldn't be...he opened the bottom drawer and pulled it out and almost threw up!

It felt as though he was dreaming it yet everything seemed real.

The dreams had been real.

He could even recall driving to Vicksburg! He had talked to a couple who had stopped on the side of the road and he offered to help them!

Then he went back to his car and pulled out the mask and put it on his face.

Then everything became hazy.

It wasn't him anymore as it continued on.

It seemed as if someone had taken over his body! He no longer was in control of his own body. He had become the Reaper!

All he remembered was seeing the reflection of himself; the mask of the Reaper.

He had become George Foyet.

…...

The End.

…...


End file.
